• Memoir,  Short Story

    All People Poop, Some People More Than Others by William Turbyfill

    Do I poop here in my home or do I wait until I get to the sandwich shop? Like all great adventures, this one started with a choice. After just moving to a new area I needed to find work. I filled out applications all over town and the one place that felt like taking our relationship to the next level was a sandwich shop a quarter mile from my home. They invited me in for an interview. It was a great job possibility considering the circumstances. Not too many hours a week, an easy walk from my home and free sandwiches. Up until this point in my job history…

  • Christmas

    Merry Christmas from William Turbyfill

    Throughout history and across different cultures, nations and peoples, the bleak midwinter has been a time for celebrations. It doesn’t matter if it’s Christian, Jewish, Pagan or secular, the darkest and coldest parts of the year are full of food, drink and dance. December in particular is lousy with holidays where revelry is expected. At first glance this seems odd. Springtime is where the fun’s at. It’s warm, it’s bright; and plants, animals, and people are making baby plants, animals and people. True, springtime holds its share of celebrations but nothing compared what happens when the days get shorter and the nights grow longer; where people have little to do…

  • Memoir,  Short Story

    A Misunderstanding Pertaining to Tomatoes by William Turbyfill

    I do not know how to make fried green tomatoes and I have mixed emotions about this. Part of me is glad I didn’t know. If I knew then the following experience never would have happened and I would be missing an important defining story in my life. The other, larger, more honest part of me wishes I had known so that I could have skipped this moment because stories are over rated. My one goal was to bring back a contribution to our community’s weekly potluck meal. The theme this week: southern food. The menu included chicken, cornbread and beans. So basically someone with no idea what actual southern…

  • Fiction,  Memoir,  Short Story

    Squirrels Hate Robots by William Turbyfill

    “Squirrels hate robots.” He says it with such earnestness that it catches me off guard. “I beg your pardon.” “Squirrels. Hate. Robots. It’s really not that complicated.” The five year old is right. It is not a complicated concept to comprehend and yet, I have questions, not the least of which is, ‘if squirrels hate robots, do robots in turn, hate squirrels?’ “I could draw you a picture of it if that would make it easier for you.” I’m not a fan of his condescending attitude. “How do you know this, about the robots and the squirrels and what not?” I say this while looking for a pencil and paper.…